


all the king's horses

by Anonymous



Category: Red Dead Redemption (Video Games)
Genre: Angst, Bad Sex, Dubious Consent, Homophobia, M/M, Period-Typical Homophobia, Power Imbalance, Slurs, Violence, tragic backstory, whatever the tag for 'kieran is forcibly enlisted in a gang' should be
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-16
Updated: 2020-04-15
Packaged: 2021-03-01 22:33:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,425
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23674681
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Kieran's time before Dutch - the parts he didn't tell Sean.
Relationships: Kieran Duffy/Colm O'Driscoll, Kieran Duffy/Original Male Character(s)
Comments: 3
Kudos: 31
Collections: sins i post on anon only





	all the king's horses

**Author's Note:**

> i wrote this for the rdr2 server but im not gonna put my name on it because it is a sin

First and foremost, Kieran was good with horses. They were simple, straightforward - they wanted respect, and for that, they’d give it back. A good rider respected his horse, a good horse respected his rider - the best matches were between folk who knew both. 

Respect was something he’d only ever earned from a horse. 

His father had wanted a simple life, time as a Californian farmer, raising up twelve kids once they were settled enough to feed them. 

Instead, he’d just had Kieran - a skinny, sickly kid, who somehow managed to make it past the consumption that claimed both his parents.

The doctor who’d accepted their meager pay to treat them owned a sizeable estate, and it had a stable, and that was where Kieran had found work...and respect. He could approach a horse, and be greeted with kind eyes and a level of trust. They knew he would do his best for them, counted on him to do right by them, decided that he was safe and well-intended. 

Kieran made it to his teens like that: he’d feed and groom and care for the horses, he’d ease them through births or through their deaths when it came time, slept in the stables near them and spoke to them and generally made them his life. 

The doctor had a son, about Kieran’s age - couple years older, he thought, but nobody really told Kieran stuff like that. 

He studied law, and was good at it, from what Kieran overheard the doctor telling his guests when they went for rides. Was on high track to be a bigshot, the doctor told them- would end up a senator or something, for sure,  _ just you wait.  _

His school was a good one, so Kieran didn’t see him much at all - a month or so, he’d come around, marked only by a light on in an upper window, a shadow occasionally passing across the curtain. 

And then, when Kieran was seventeen, the young man stopped being such a distant figure. He bought a horse, a big beast of one, and he spent a lot of time in the stables with it. 

“Stable boy,” he called, after a few days of checking in on his new horse. “What can you tell me about my horse?”

Nobody usually talked to Kieran, so he stuttered his way through his explanation of the horse’s general health and personality, the things Kieran knew about his breed and coloring, what sort of speed or strength he’d most likely have if pushed to work- the stuff most people wanted to know.

And the man just...watched, listening, humming along here or there. He gave no indication he was bored, but neither was he interested - he was simply...humoring Kieran. Letting him talk.

And Kieran, bewildered by this, felt emboldened, and hesitantly ventured further. He told the doctor’s son of the horse’s favorite treats and his opinion of various blankets, how he got on with other horses, how often he needed to be taken out before he got restless. Stuff no one ever cared about. 

He listened to all of it.

Eventually, Kieran ran out of things to say about the horse, and fell silent, both of them looking at each other for a moment before the man prompted him to give his name. 

“K-Kieran Duffy, sir,” he managed, nervous.

“Nathaniel,” the man returned. “I’ve been neglecting my studies, this summer, but I shouldn’t neglect the horse, either...Would you mind if I brought some work with me this way? I could probably get some sort of desk set up rather easily, but I am unsure where exactly  _ you  _ stay…?”

“Ah, I’m okay,” Kieran said quickly. “I ain’t- I’ll stay outta yer way-..”

“That’s not what I meant,” Nathaniel said. “You don’t bother me, Kieran.” 

Kieran’s heart clenched. 

He bothered  _ everybody _ . 

  
  


Nathaniel kept coming back. He got some farmhands to throw a shoddy looking desk together, tsk’d over it, and set it up in the corner of the stables. He’d come down with his law books, set them on the desk, and pour through them for hours while Kieran went through his daily tasks. Then, when Kieran was done with every other horse, he’d get to Nathaniel’s, and the law student closed his books and got up like he’d been waiting, and come up and ask Kieran to walk him through how to train and bond with his horse. Kieran would lead him out and get him ready for riding, and guide Nathaniel through the proper way to  _ teach  _ a horse, rather than to simply order it around. 

“Ya can ride a horse anytime,” Kieran said. “But a horse ain’t gonna do nothin’ for you but walk if it don’t like ya. It might not even do that, honest. Some are kinda stubborn - big guys like this usually are, anyway. They only gonna do somethin’ if they wanna.” 

“A good trait, I suppose,” Nathaniel said. “I’m also rather given to getting what I want.” 

He looked down at Kieran from the horse’s back. 

“Ride with me?” 

Kieran’s face flared red, stuttering out quickly, “I-I ain’t supposed to ride none of the horses, the doc don’t-...”

“If my father has a problem, he can have it with me,” Nathaniel said simply. “I’d like to have you with me on my ride. If nothing else, to ensure I do things properly?” 

So Kieran got a horse from the stables, and rode with him. 

It became the routine - Nathaniel would do his work and Kieran would do his own, and then they’d get horses and mount up and take a ride. 

Nathaniel asked Kieran a few little questions about how he’d ended up working for his family and such, but must have realized that there wasn’t much to be found there, because he’d instead started talking about himself. His day, his interactions with people around the property, his family, his schooling.

One day, while working at his shody desk, he’d leaned back and said, “Listen to this,” and read out a passage of his book in a mocking tone. Kieran laughed, amused at the change from his usual dignified speech, and Nathaniel preened, reading another.

That became routine, too - Nathaniel performing bits of his law books for Kieran while he worked on the horses, making him laugh, or asking Kieran’s opinion of certain laws or recorded cases. 

And then….he stopped showing. 

Three days straight, Nathaniel didn’t show up at the stables. Kieran felt himself get sicker each evening, when he accepted Nathaniel wasn’t going to simply show up later, and by the third night he’d been half certain Nathaniel had returned to school without saying goodbye.

And then, in the dead of the night, Kieran heard the stable door open.

He was on his feet in an instant, grabbing the old gun he’d been trusted with to guard from any horse thieves, and got ready to act - only to pause, because his dim lanterns lit up a face he knew well. 

“Nathaniel?” he asked, setting the gun aside without hesitation, approaching the man. “I ain’t seen you in a couple days. You- what’re you doin’ out here at night?” 

As soon as he was close, Nathaniel reached out. Kieran let out a stifled cry of surprise as hands landed on his cheeks, holding his face. 

“They’ve arranged a marriage,” he said, softly. “I’m to have a wife, upon my graduation.” 

Kieran’s stomach sunk. He didn’t know why the thought hurt him, but it did - a bone-deep ache. 

“When-...” Kieran paused, tongue darting out across his lower lip, trying to find the words. “When do you graduate?” 

“At the end of my next year,” Nathaniel said. “I’d planned to return here - start up a local practice nearby, take a bit of spare land from this estate to begin my own homestead.” 

On his face, Nathaniel’s hands shifted, and his thumbs moved, dragging softly over Kieran’s cheeks.

“And you,” he’d said. “I’d intended to steal you away with me. Let my father find another stablehand, and have you for myself.” 

Kieran felt warm, even through his growing heartbreak. “I-I’da liked that,” he said. “I...I still could- I could work for you, if you wanted.” 

Nathaniel shook his head. “I don’t want you to work for me, Kieran.”

“...Oh.”

Kieran felt cold again, and sick, and he ached, and he just wanted to retreat - but then Nathaniel pulled him forward at the cheeks, and -

...And kissed him.

His mind went perfectly blank, just for a moment...and then a new heat bloomed, an unfamiliar joy spreading through his every vein, as he surged to meet him. 

Nathaniel guided him backward, crowding him against the wall of the stable, pinning him against it and kissing him like his life depended on it. 

Kieran, unsure what to do with his hands, raised them up, setting them uncertainly on Nathaniel’s chest, fingers bunching in the fabric of his shirt. 

Nathaniel seemed to take that as a cue, as he broke their kiss, looking at Kieran with dark eyes, the faintest traces of lamplight barely brushing his cheek, making it hard to tell the look on his face. “Would you have me?” he asked, very softly. 

“I love you,” Kieran blurted in reply. His heart stopped, embarrassment and fear flooding him, and quickly stuttered out, “I-I mean-....”

Nathaniel surged forward again, reclaiming his lips. 

The new kiss was heated, frantic - Nathaniel pulling off his shirt, then tugging on Kieran’s, then guiding them off the wall and lowering Kieran down onto the bedroll on the hay. 

Kieran didn’t know what they were doing, but Nathaniel seemed to - he stripped him without hesitation, trailed hands reverently across his skin without trace of disgust. 

Nathaniel turned Kieran over onto his stomach, hands trailing low, coming to rest at the base of his spine. 

Kieran’s heart clenched, fear low in his gut. He  _ wanted,  _ craved something from Nathaniel, but he had no idea how to do this.

He stiffened as he felt Nathaniel spread his cheeks, thumb brushing the space between. 

“I, I ain’t-...” Kieran started to say, but caught off with a startled noise as he felt something hit that space.

He’d  _ spit  _ on him. 

Kieran had a brief moment to panic before the thumb brushed him again, smearing the spit in. 

“Relax,” Nathaniel told him, rubbing at him in a way that made Kieran feel both awkward and oddly tingly. “You get used to it quickly, I promise.” 

Kieran swallowed. “Y-you’ve done it?” 

Nathaniel’s finger curved, the tip of his thumb pressing into Kieran’s hole.

Kieran dropped his face quickly onto his arm, trying very hard not to cry out. It was the weirdest sensation he’d ever felt in his life, a burn and a pressure and the instant instinct to push, to get whatever was there back out-...

“It’s harder if you bear down like that,” Nathaniel murmured, pressing a kiss gently onto his hip. The affectionate gesture filled Kieran with a warmth that distracted him a moment, allowing him to fully relax as soon as Nathaniel removed his fingertip.

He startled slightly when Nathaniel spit again, and the thumb returned, but Nathaniel had been right - he adjusted quickly, and was able to eventually stop being so disturbed by the new feelings, instead basking in the tenderness of each touch.

Then, a hand came up and around, fingertips brushing his lips. “Suck on them,” Nathaniel ordered, in a low voice. 

Without thought, Kieran opened his mouth, letting Nathaniel stick three of his fingers inside. He was unsure what exactly he was meant to do, so he simply held them a moment, before tentatively sticking his tongue against them, and trying to gentle suck on them.

“Get them wet,” Nathaniel clarified. 

Oh. Anxiety returning, Kieran tried to pool saliva in his mouth, using his tongue against each of the fingers, dipping in between them, trying to coat them. If they were gonna be  _ there-... _

Nathaniel groaned, slightly, and pulled his fingers abruptly out. “I can’t wait anymore,” he breathed out, harshly-

-And Kieran made a strangled noise, dropping his face back into his arms, as a finger breached him without warning. 

“Sorry,” Nathaniel breathed, peppering kisses along Kieran’s backside, but he didn’t stop - he pulled his finger back slightly, then pushed it forward again, dragging the flesh in ways it had never been forced into before, burning with only the slightest help from the saliva on them. 

“That-...” Kieran protested, weakly. “That  _ hurts.”  _

Nathaniel shifted, picking Kieran’s hips up, readjusting his position so his ass was jutted up into the air - posed like a damn dog in heat, making his face burn. 

The position was for a purpose, though - once he was up, Nathaniel reached out, taking his cock in hand. It had lost interest in their proceedings rather quickly, but responded almost instantly to the touch, the stinging a mild distraction at best. Kieran had been kicked by a horse, before - this was nothing he couldn’t take, surely. 

Nathaniel toyed with him more than anything, quick tugs in between spans of simply palming him, but it got Kieran built up quickly. 

No one other than him had ever touched him like that, and he didn’t think he’d make it very far if it continued-

-And then he swore, biting his own arm to keep from yelling out any louder, as Nathaniel added another finger. 

Most of Kieran’s spit had already dried off, and while Nathaniel occasionally spat extra into the mix, it still didn’t make the harsh scrape of it any easier. 

“N-Nate,” Kieran forced out. “I can’t-...”

Nathaniel made a noise of impatience, but his fingers pulled free, causing Kieran to almost collapse in relief. 

His hands left Kieran completely, and he had a moment to miss him, anxious he’d ruined something they’d just started - only for Nathaniel to return to him, gripping his hip tightly.

Something wet and cold hit his ass, sliding down between his cheeks, coating his stinging hole. 

“I don’t even know what the hell you put this oil on for a horse,” Nathaniel muttered. “But if it makes you sick, it’s your own damn fault.”

Fingers rubbed him again, massaging in the oil. There were a couple different types of liquid treatments in the barn, and Kieran was pretty sure none of them were meant to be used that way, but when Nathaniel’s fingers dipped back in, it hurt so much less that he didn’t really care. 

He could feel more than the burn, finally, and started realizing what sort of movements Nathaniel was making inside, massaging the muscle, easing his fingers apart and then back together again, forcing the space to relax into letting him in. 

It...wasn’t awful. 

Some of the brushes felt pretty good, even, if they were spaced out with weird, invasive sensations.

Tipping the balance was Nathaniel reaching forward and taking him in hand again, a bit more firmly this time, dragging up and down his length in lazy strokes. 

Fire started to burn low in his belly as he focused on it, building with each surge of well-touched nerves from the fingers.

Just as he was starting to worry he might go over the edge, Nathaniel saved him by changing it up again - adding a third finger.

The stretch was less painful with the aid of the oil and without Kieran bearing down so hard, but it still stung. There was something else, though, a sort of full feeling, the ‘good spots’ Nathaniel had been brushing seeming to tingle as they awaited his touch again. The anticipation made it harder  _ not  _ to focus on it, and he realized with humiliation at one point that he was pressing back, leaning  _ into  _ the touches, rather than away.

Nathaniel’s fingers turned inside him, and Kieran was surprised to hear himself let out a low moan, partly at the tugging on the sore stretched rim, but mostly at the press more firmly into one of those really good nerves. 

“Fuck,” Nathaniel swore. “I need-...”

His fingers left Kieran abruptly. For a moment, he felt an unfamiliar hollowness, like something that was  _ meant  _ to be there was missing, the ghost of the feeling still lingering - and then there was something else, and he was being stretched again, letting a half-pained, half-satisfied groan and Nathaniel pushed in.

“Fucking-... _ tight,”  _ Nathaniel grunted, hands gripping tight to Kieran’s hips. “Always thought the boys from the college were whores, taking it easy...you feel so much better.” A hand pressed flat against his lower back, starting to rub up and down his spine soothingly, as more of him pressed forward, stretching wider and deeper than the fingers had, stretching out new muscle that hadn’t gotten the same warm-up as the entrance. “Opened just for me...the first one to touch you like this, huh, Kieran?” 

Kieran let out a low noise he couldn’t even begin to explain, and Nathaniel reacted by moving his hands back to his hips, gripping them tight again and using them to pull Kieran back sharply, bottoming out in one go, drawing a shout from Kieran. 

“Shh,” Nathaniel cooed to him. “You’ll wake someone up, and then we’ll both be in trouble.”

Kieran nodded shakily, returning his hand to his mouth, biting down on the side of it to muffle the soft sounds each movement drew from him. 

Nathaniel started to move - not slow and loving, like the initial fingers had been, but fast and sharp, his desire having apparently grown past his patience. 

While it still hurt a decent bit, and he was sure he’d feel like hell later, he was also starting to really enjoy it, tiny twinges of something excellent shooting up his spine.

Nathaniel reached around after a moment, taking him up again. He stroked quickly, urgently, in time with his fast thrusting-

-And then he hit a particularly good ‘good spot,’ and Kieran shouted around the flesh of his hand, feeling himself seize up, coming hard into Nathaniel’s hand. 

Nathaniel swore heavily, holding still for a moment as Kieran twitched, before picking up a wild pace again, dragging Kieran’s hips back and forth in harsh snaps, using both his hands as he release Kieran’s spent cock. 

The feeling was still good, he supposed, but it was too much - he simultaneously wanted to bear down into it and to pull away, his muscles starting to twitch, hips moving as he squirmed under the overstimulation. 

Fingers dug hard into his side, pushing him down, pinning him in place as Nathaniel drove into him firmly a few more times before finally, blissfully stilling.

The feeling of a man coming inside him was so strange, but Kieran was so glad to feel it - both because he’d made Nathaniel feel as good as he had, and because he wasn’t sure how much more of it he could have taken. 

Nathaniel pulled out of him slowly, running hands gently up and down his sides. “You did good,” he murmured. “You’re very good at taking it. You might’ve been made for it.” 

Kieran’s face burned, and he let himself collapse fully, relaxing onto his bed, ignoring the stickiness under his stomach and the growing soreness of his backside.

Nathaniel leaned over, lips brushing Kieran’s temple, before turning, making to stand up.

Kieran reached out without thinking, grabbing Nathaniel’s wrist. 

Nathaniel paused, looking down at him, eyebrow raised. “What?”

Kieran released him as though he’d been burned. “Ah...nothin’...” he said, quietly, settling back down. “Um...g’night, Nathaniel.” 

“Goodnight,” Nathaniel returned, and got to his feet, retrieving his clothes from the floor around them, donning them again, and heading back out the stable doors. 

  
  


Nathaniel didn’t come to the stables the next day, either.

This time, though,  _ someone  _ showed up - his father, a large and grim-looking man, who seemed particularly  _ furious  _ at the moment as he stormed up to Kieran.

“U-um, hello, sir,” Kieran greeted quickly. “Is, ah, is somethin’-..?”

The back of the doctors hand connected hard with his cheek, sending him stumbling to the side under the force of it, skin stinging almost as bad as the lingering traces of the night before. 

“You think I didn’t know?” he spat. “You think I’m some kind of idiot?” 

Kieran’s heart clenched. “S-sir, what-...”

“I had a  _ talk  _ with my son,” the man growled at him. 

Kieran froze.

“Yeah, that’s right, boy,” the doctor said. “I caught him sneaking into our house last night, and we had a little disagreement. He’s  _ engaged,  _ you see, and yet he’s sneaking around, rolling in the dirt with some _ fairy orphan ingrate.” _

Kieran’s stomach dropped, feeling sick, his blood running ice cold. “I-I...sir, I didn’t-...”

“So now I’m figuring, it’s time to remind him who pays for that education he’s getting,” he said. “And of the laws he’s supposed to be studying. You get the  _ fuck  _ off my property, invert.” 

Kieran stared at him, wide-eyed. “Wh-...”

“You stay in my face a second longer, boy, and I’ll write every sheriff in this county and warn them about the faggot that laid hands on my damn son.” 

Kieran’s eyes burned, his heart clenching. “He-...Please, sir-...”

_ “Go.” _

Kieran looked, hopelessly, toward the house, toward the familiar lit window. 

The curtains had been moved, and the light was on, and in it there stood a very familiar figure. 

Watching. Just….watching.

He stared, pleadingly, up to the window.  _ Please,  _ he thought,  _ please… _

A hand landed on his throat, gripping him harshly and  _ throwing  _ him backward, onto the ground. 

“Don’t even look at him!” the doctor spat. “Get on! Get the fuck out of here, before I shoot you myself!” 

Kieran looked, shakily, toward the window again.

He could almost imagine he could see Nathaniel’s eyes, across the distance. Would he…?

Nathaniel’s outline moved, hand coming up, reaching to the side.

_ What..? _

The curtains dropped closed.

Kieran felt suddenly numb.

The doctor moved, pulling a pistol from his belt, wielding it at Kieran. “I mean it, boy!”

Kieran moved, quickly, though without thought - there was no feeling in him anymore, no presence of mind, only a dull survival instinct, forcing him to his feet, making him turn in the grass, scrambling away, across the yard, breaking into a run as he found his balance. 

His whole body ached, and it was hard to run...but he still didn’t stop. Didn’t stop until he was so far into the trees that he couldn’t even see the doctor’s large estate past the thousands of trees, and he was safe enough to collapse against a tree, a sob tearing its way out of his throat. 

And, now, he didn’t even have the horses.

  
  
  
  


He was still seventeen, but the army only asked for show, really, and didn’t nobody question him when he lied. 

He didn’t have any other options, anyway - he couldn’t find work for more than a day or two at a time, nobody having any real use for him. Town stables usually already had a decent staff on, and private stables weren’t big outside of rich places. 

They took him even though he was skinny and young and not worth a shit, and kept him through his training where he did nothing but fuck up. 

He got pretty good with a gun, eventually, and some of the horses didn’t listen to anyone  _ but  _ him, which made him valuable to his company at least. For a while, he had a place, and he was okay.

Then, though, there was a military ball, politicians of all types schmoozing with generals in the hopes that, together, they could achieve some renown. 

But there were also a lot of rich men there simply because they were rich, and almost as soon as he’d entered, Kieran had gone white, spotting familiar faces in the distance. 

Nathaniel was there.

_ He did get into politics, I guess,  _ he thought, distantly. It was almost a hysterical thought - he wasn’t sure what else to think about it. The gaping hole in his chest did not grow any smaller at the sight of him, nor did the anger inside him quell. Not for a moment did he feel the world had been fair to him, and he  _ still  _ spent nights wondering what had been Nathaniel’s logic when he’d simply hidden away, leaving Kieran to his fate. 

Kieran hadn’t been lying to him, when he’d confessed. And, he supposed, by never responding, neither had Nathaniel. 

“Oi, Duff,” one of the soldiers in his regime said, shoulder checking him, causing him to stumble, almost spilling his untouched drink. “Scared of a few suits? Don’t worry, all rich folk is the same. They think we dumb as rocks, no matter what we say, so ya can’t fuck it up.” 

“It’s Duffy,” another said. “He’ll find a way.”

They laughed. Kieran gave a weak smile, pretending to find humor in it as well - and pretending he wasn’t seconds from being sick. 

His eyes crossed the room again, and met very, very familiar ones.

He froze - and watched, heart pounding, as Nathaniel did, too, eyes widening, realization blooming across his face.

And then-

Then his face went blank, and his eyes flicked over the crowd of soldiers. 

_ What’s he looking for?  _

Whatever it was, he must have found it. He started his way across the room, weaving through crowds, growing closer and closer to the military gathered around Kieran.

At the edge of the uniformed crowd, he stopped, sliding casually up to someone, catching their attention, and quietly leading them away, out onto the terrace.

The commander over Kieran’s regiment.

His heart stopped. 

He didn’t want to think that the worst was happening - that Nathaniel had, for some reason, become spiteful enough toward him to spill his secrets-...

...But he couldn’t afford to find out.

_ They’ll kill me,  _ Kieran thought.  _ If they think- if they find-....I’ll be dead, or worse. _

He reached out with an unsteady hand, setting his glass on the table beside him. 

“Where ya goin, Duff?”

“Stepping outside,” Kieran breathed. As the soldiers all turned back to their conversations, happy to ignore him, he turned, weaving through the people, making his way outside.

Three steps from the door, he removed his coat, tossing it over a bush. From there, he stripped away almost every sign of a uniform, hiding them away in the foliage, and then…

Then he made his way to the edge of the property, and beyond, into the evening, finding himself once again in a thicket of trees trying to escape his sins.

And, once again, he ran.


End file.
